


In the Eyes of A Heartless God

by jackstanifold



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Clay | Dream-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Spoilers for 3-1 streams, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), he fucking killed that fucking child, holy fuck, i listened to "those who cant cheat" on repeat while writing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29801463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackstanifold/pseuds/jackstanifold
Summary: Dream is forced to see through the eyes of everyone on the server, forced to feel their pain, their fear, their rage.In the eyes of a heartless god, the world has never been so beautiful, and yet so painful.(SPOILERS FOR THE 3/1 STREAMS I'M SERIOUS HERE)
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & BadBoyHalo, Connor | ConnorEatsPants & TommyInnit, Ponk | DropsByPonk/Sam | Awesamdude, Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson
Comments: 12
Kudos: 167





	In the Eyes of A Heartless God

**Author's Note:**

> tommy? tommy? oh my fucking god, he's fucking dead.

Dream couldn’t sleep. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t sleep, so he just layed in bed, staring at the ceiling.

He’s always played this game with Tommy. A game of chess, long and convoluted. He wasn’t even sure Tommy had known he was playing, no matter how many times he’d told the boy the rules.

The kid had been stubborn. He’d insisted he knew what was going on, insisted Tubbo wasn’t a pawn, but he didn’t, and he was.

Dream had won the game.

He’d had his fun, and he was out of patience, so he wrapped his hands around Tommy’s neck, and he’d slammed him into the wall, over and over and over until it sounded wet and Tommy’s breath had stopped.

The lava dropped moments later, and Sam came flying in, solid black eyes wide, all four dog-like paws skittering on the smooth blackstone.

Dream stood in the cell for a long time, soaking in the silence, the sweet, sweet silence, and he smiled. It felt so nice to be alone.

That night should have been the best sleep of his life, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t and he didn’t know why.

He lay there, staring at the darkness of his cell, listening to the lava pop.

“Do you regret it?”

He sat up, turning to the corner, somehow unsurprised to see a being there. It was tall, with flowing emerald robes. Its head was made of rings of light, orbiting each other, spinning together, and so many pairs of wings sprouted from its back- bird, insect, bat- that he couldn’t count them.

This was a god.

He wasn’t scared.

“No,” His voice was calm. “I don’t.”

“How? How do you go through with all these horrible things, and not wish you could change them, fix them?”

Dream hummed. “I don’t know. I don’t care. It’s one of my strengths, I guess.”

The being stared at him, or, he assumed it did. It had no face, it was pretty hard to tell. “Strengths…”

He layed back down, ignoring the cold feeling that seemed to emanate from the god. It was odd, he knew he should be scared, but… he’d won his game. Everything he’d ever wanted… he’d accomplished it. He had nothing else.

The thing moved closer, the bone chilling cold sinking into the man, but he didn’t flinch, didn’t move.

  
  
  


And then, he was standing in his vault.

For a moment, he froze, staring at the walls, at the floor, at  _ Tommy.  _ The boy stood before him, a look of  _ absolute terror  _ on his face, and instead of being invigorated, thrilled, Dream felt a tear slide down his cheek. 

“We will be dead before we get to the portal,” He interrupted interrupted whatever inane dribble Tommy had been letting out, his own voice far too nasally, far too weak. “Too much of a distance.”

His mask was gone, he noticed, although he wasn’t sure how, or why. His clothes were light, soft, no armor to keep him safe.

“It’s alright,” He said. “We had some laughs, it was fun. While it laste-”

“Why have you just accepted it?” Tommy asked, weakly. “Don’t just accept it, now!”

Dream started talking too, and their voices blended together into a familiar harmony, one Dream had spent years listening to.

“We are literally at Y level five,” He said, and he realised how tired he was. “There is literally no way to go under. We don’t have any blocks, there is no way to go above.”

Dream looked over his shoulder, toward the portal, and he found…

Himself.

Long caramel hair, in a high ponytail. Shining armour, polished to perfection. Chipped porcelain mask, staring back.

Dream knew now what was going on. He was living this through Tubbo’s eyes, seeing what he saw, feeling what he felt. 

The hatred that burned in his chest was sickening, especially when aimed at himself.

“No…” Tommy’s voice was barely at a whisper. “Tubbo… what am I… what am I without you?”

Dream softened, his eyes melting, his lips turning into a smile, careful, gentle, sad. “Yourself.”

  
  


Dream stood in an unfamiliar room, with high ceilings, and red vines covering the wall. He stared at Bad, who stared back.

One of his eyes didn’t work, he realised, and his hair tickled the base of his neck. Who was he now?

“So all you wanted to do was save Skeppy, and now you’re sacrificing other people?” His voice was familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. “Oh wait, no, you’re not sacrificing other people, you don’t  _ need  _ to. But you don’t want to be alone with the stupid curse that you have, and now you’re asking other people to join you, is that it?”

Bad still hadn’t moved, blank white eyes fixed on Dream with unwavering patience. At the end of his spiel, though, he began to speak, his voice cold and even, not anything like what Dream knew.

“Do you think I wanted this, Quackity? Is that what you think? You think I  _ wanted  _ this?” 

A wave of annoyance welled in Dream’s chest, and he stepped forward. “Why didn’t you ask for help?! Why didn’t you tell me, ‘hey-’”

Bad surged forward, eyes flashing a bright red. “YOU DON’T THINK I TRIED? Quackity?”

Dream stilled, watching as his old best friend stared at him. 

“You don’t think I tried? I reached out to people, ok? We worked on it. Nothing. Worked.  _ Okay?  _ Nothing we did was putting him back to normal, Quackity, okay? I had to make a choice. I didn’t have time to consult everyone. My friend was suffering, and I realised that… joining the egg was better than losing my friend. I made… I made that  _ decision.  _ And you know what? If I get to be with my best friend?” Bad’s hand drifted to his neck, where a single gold band hung from a chain. Dream hadn’t been to the wedding, but Quackity had. Quackity remembered the music, and the laughter, and the smile on Bad’s face as Skeppy had kissed him. “I don’t care.”

Something deep in Quackity’s chest shattered.

  
  
  


Dream stood in a dark tunnel. This one, he recognized.

The final control room lay before him, and he let out a sigh. He was tired. He was so inexplicably tired, the kind of exhaustion that soaked into your bones, and made you want to curl up and die. 

“What the fuck is this Techno?”

He turned, his legs screaming in protest, his back aching from his recent execution. He was so so tired, he didn’t want to be here, he just wanted to go home, but still, he turned.

Quackity stood before him, leaning on an axe, eyebrows pinched. He still had both eyes, somehow, his face clean and unscarred. This was the day he lost them, the day his face was turned into meat.

“Did you really think, Quackity,” Dream- no- Techno’s voice was scratchy, tearing at his throat, but still, he laughed. How anyone could consider him monotone was past him. The emotion pouring into his voice was enough to make Dream’s thoughts falter. “Did you really think that you could kill me that easily? Did you think death would be enough to stop me?

“Y’know, I tried convincing you guys that government wasn’t the answer, that government was actually the cause of all your problems,” He was angry now, his exhaustion leaking away bit by bit, replaced by anger. “I tried to convince you guys by fighting alongside you as brothers, and you just cast me aside, you used me. I tried to use force, and you still formed a government, and when I went into hiding, when I retired, when I swore off violence, you hunted me down, you hurt my friends.” 

Quackity’s eyes narrowed.  “You don’t understand, Techno. You don’t understand what we’re trying to build here. This is not a simple anarchy thing, okay? This is what you don’t understand.” He leaned in, his breath smelled like blood. “You really think I give a shit about the Withers? No, no. You are on the hit list, Techno. You’re on the fucking hit list. I’m building a country here. What we have out there is a country. What we need here is organization, power. I don’t care how long it fucking takes me or what I have to do to get you, Techno, I’m going to fucking kill you. I’m going to kill you, Technoblade.”

Dream sighed. There was something in his throat, something that felt a bit like regret.

“I just have one question, Quackity. Do you think you’re enough to kill me? Even unarmed, with iron armor?”

Quackity’s face twisted. “Let’s find out, you son of a bitch.”

  
  
  


He stood in a dark room, staring at Wilbur Soot. 

Wilbur didn’t stare back, for once, his eyes set on the button in the wall. “I was just saying, I made this big point and it was… it was poignant, that there was a place where men could go, but it’s- but it’s not there anymore.”

“But it is there, Will,” Dream said, his voice so much softer than it’d ever been before. “You just won it back.”

Wilbur finally turned, staring at Phil, his dark eyes the color of blood stains on shaking hands. “Phil, I’m always so close to pressing this button, Phil! I’ve been here- I’ve been here seven or eight times, I’ve been here.”

Fireworks rang out in the quiet air, and Wilbur muttered something to himself before standing.

“Phil. There was a saying, by a traitor, once part of L’Manburg. A traitor I don’t know if you’ve heard of, Eret? She had a saying.”

Something in Dream’s chest caught, and he stepped forward. “Wait-”

“It was never meant to be.”

Wilbur’s fist connected with the button, and Dream surged forward, pitch black wings wrapping around his son, his  _ child.  _

Shrapnel tore through his flesh, tore through his feathers, but the only thing he felt was Wilbur, shaking, laughing.

“No…”

Dream stepped back, turning to the wall that had been destroyed, staring at the gash torn in the earth, staring at the people, at  _ Techno who was right there he was okay he was fine but Wilbur wasn’t Wilbur wasn’t alright Wilbur was- _

“My unfinished symphony,” Wilbur crowed, smiling happily at Dream. “Forever unfinished!”

“What have you done…?”

Wilbur’s face suddenly paled, and slackened, and he stepped back, a look of dull horror tinging his features as he realised what he’d done.

“Kill me. Kill me, Phil.”

Dream stepped back, hand naturally moving to his mouth. “No- no, Will, you’re-”

“Kill me, Phil, murder me.”

“You’re my son! No matter what you’ve done, what you’ll-”

“Phil!” Wilbur screamed. Dream froze, staring into his eyes. “Phil…”

He unsheathed his sword, pressing it into Phil’s hands and turning to the hole in the wall, spreading his arms.

“...Please…”

Phil slipped the sword between folds of cloth, through skin, through muscle, through his only son’s heart.

It was easier than he expected.

  
  
  


Dream felt his bones break as he bounced down the crater, the gaping hole in his stomach spilling out entrails and blood.

He couldn’t scream, his vocal chords were severed, he couldn’t moved, he was in too much pain. All he could do was lay there and watch Techno and Tommy scream at each other, voices raw and furious, and feel the life sink out of him.

Who was he?

He didn’t think anyone had died at the battle.

What had changed?

“Jack?”

Fundy’s voice was soft, and Dream’s eyes flitted to him, to the look of horror on his face.

“Fffffff…”

“Jack…” The fox grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

He turned, to leave and Jack let out a choking sound that meant so much.  _ Stay for just a bit. Help me. Kill me. Please. _

The fox didn’t hear.

Jack Manifold bled out alone.

  
  
  


He knew where he was now. 

The prison stood before him, the dark walls shining in the dim dawn light. He was scared, tugging at the balaklava that was threatening to suffocate him, but still, he smiled.

Finally, a familiar hulking figure came out of the front gate, and Dream felt his heart soar. “Sammy!”

The warden looked up, face relaxing into a smile when their eyes met. “Ponkie! Hi, how are you?”

Ponk bounced over, practically floating. “I’m good! Uh… I was wondering if you wanted to take a quick walk?”

“With you?”

“Yeah, with me.”

Sam smiled, a gentle grin that Dream had never seen before, love shining in his eyes. “Of course.”

Dream sighed, happily, and turned away from the prison, making small talk as they walked. This was it. He was going to finally ask Sam out. He had spent ages planning, preparing. This was the big moment.

“Ponk?” 

“Yes, Sammy Wammy?” He smiled, but the other man didn’t smile back, his face suddenly grave.

“Is that my trident?” The warden asked, and Dream hesitated.

He ran his hand over the strap holding the trident to his back. “N-No? No, this one’s…”

“Ponk. Why did you steal my trident?”

Ponk gulped. “Uh… I-I’m sorry, you already have so many…”

“Yeah, I do,” Sam’s voice was low. “Which is why, if you would’ve asked, I would’ve given you one.”

Dream took a sharp breath. “I’m sorry, Sam.”

“Give it to me.”

Ponk hesitated, before turning and sprinting away, running through the tall grass, to the little hole in the ground that led to the spider farm. He dropped down, stumbling a bit on the landing, and sprinted to the enchanting table. 

Behind him, the tell-tale clanking of Sam’s armor signified he’d dropped down too.

Ponk had never been good at enchanting, but he did his best, whirling around and shoving the trident at his best friend’s chest.

“There, good as new!”

Sam hesitated, staring down at it. “No, Ponk, this is worse.”

“I- I… Sam-”

“No, Ponk. I can’t believe you did this. I trusted you.”

“I know, Sam,” Ponk’s mouth was dry. “I’m sorry.”

Sam just shook his head, and turned away. “If you’d just asked…”

Ponk went to tear down the woo station.   
  


  
  


He couldn’t breathe.

The walls were pressing in on him, the air was stale and he  _ couldn’t fucking breathe. _

“Connor?”

He looked up to see Tommy’s face. The boy scowled at him, a sneer of disgust coating his features.

“Hello Connor. We’re going to kidnap you, alright?”

His voice was hoarse when he responded, like he’d been crying, or screaming. “Please, just let me go, I just… I just want to go home…”

“No,” Tommy said, firmly. “We need leverage. And you are the best bet we’ve got.”

“No…” Dream whined, weakly. “Please…”

Techno’s voice filtered in, although Dream couldn’t hear what he was saying. Tommy laughed, then reached into the little hole they’d put Connor in, dragging him out by the collar. “C’mon. You’re our slave now.”

Connor let out a weak sob, his whole body shaking in exhaustion, and fear, and confusion. “Tommy, I- I won’t tell anyone I saw you, please, I just-”

“No,” Technoblade said. “You’re our hostage, now.”

...

“I forgive you, you know.”

Tommy’s head jerked around, focusing on Connor. They weren’t in the same place. Tommy wore different clothes. It’d been a month, at least, if Dream had to guess. This was right before doomsday.

“What?”

“I forgive you,” Connor’s voice was even, and soft. “I don’t think you’re a bad person, Tommy. Just conflicted.”

“... Thanks Connor. I’m… I’m sorry for… kidnapping you, I guess.”

“It’s okay, kid.”

He turned, and left, without saying another word to the boy. 

Schlatt’s ghost watched him leave, giving him a wave when they made eye contact.

Connor smiled.

  
  
  


He was in his cell, staring at himself, watching carefully for any sort of anger.

In the last week, he’d figured it out, sort of. When Dream was mad, he moved quickly, jerkily. During exile, he’d never figured it out, but in the last seven days, when Dream had no where to get away, he’d figured it out.

He was so tired of waiting.

Today was the day, according to Dream, although they all knew how unreliable he was.

His arm hurt, suddenly, and he rubbed the stump of his elbow, from where it’d been blown off during the battle against Manburg. It hurt, even though it shouldn’t, even though it wasn’t there. He sighed, shakily.

“You know what I’m going to do, when I get out?” He asked. Dream didn’t respond. “I’m going to go up to Puffy, and I’m going to tell her you suck, and then she’ll agree.”

Dream’s focus remained on the book he was writing in.

“Everyone hates you, you know.”

Nothing.

He wasn’t sure why he wanted to piss him off so much, but he did. The idea of finally getting under Dream’s skin was so glorious, so incredible, so he started talking.

It was all bullshit, just inane dribble, and then he picked up the book and flung it into the fire, and Dream watched it go.

“You’re a liar, Dream. You have no power,” That got the man’s attention, and he felt pride bubble in his chest. “Schlatt didn’t have a book. He didn’t because how would he? What would he be doing with a book of undying? It’s bullshit!”

Dream stood slowly.

“Ask him yourself.”

And his fist connected with Tommy’s gut. The boy fell back, a mad scramble, but Dream easily kept pace, leaning down and picking Tommy up by the throat, slamming him against the wall, hard enough for all the breath to be knocked out of his lungs.

“N-no-” He choked, but it wasn’t enough.

He wasn’t enough.

  
  
  


Dream didn’t feel things often.

He lived in a pretty much emotionless state, except for anger, sometimes. Otherwise, he didn’t really experience the dramas of betrayals, or love, or fear.

He had never felt so much.

He had never  _ felt so small. _

The being left him curled up in his bed, sobbing until he couldn’t breathe, feeling every muscle in his body shake.

He felt regret for the first time in his life that night.

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys, toby here, i have decided to commit heinous crimes! i'll update welcome to the server later on, then i'm posting a whole-ass story about how people reacted to the news. 
> 
> it'll mostly be jack, probably.
> 
> i like jack a normal amount.


End file.
